


Pretty Little Pet

by Miss_Prince



Category: Gyakuten Saiban (Phoenix Wright Ace Attorney)
Genre: Bloodplay, F/F, Femslash, Kink Meme, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:51:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Prince/pseuds/Miss_Prince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viola claims her captive. Written in exchange for someone drawing this (Viola/Dahlia. Bloodplay, preferably with Dahlia bound) for me on the Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Little Pet

Viola stood idly, hip cocked, eyeing her captive with a vague sort of smile. It had been a long day, and a trying one, and Viola was in the mood for something... _rougher_ than usual. Dahlia Hawthorne stood, proud and sullen, a few steps away, next to the bed. She was wearing that white summer dress with the pink trim she so favored. It would make things easier if she were without it, but Viola did enjoy the... unwrapping. Her ankles were bound tightly together, so there was no danger of sudden movement; in fact, it was clear Dahlia was making a concentrated effort even to stay standing. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, wrist to elbow, to prevent a repeat of an... earlier incident. This had the added benefit of pushing her chest forward, and Viola made no attempt to disguise her gaze. Dahlia's breasts were small -- and Viola took great pleasure in reminding her of that fact, to see the lovely flare of rage across her face and, if she was so lucky, the delicious arch of her body as she struggled against her bonds -- but they did fit so nicely into Viola's hands, and they were so sensitive.

Viola stepped closer, carefully -- for she knew quite well that her pretty pet was always dangerous. Dahlia raised her chin defiantly, which really did nothing except give Viola an exquisite view of her long, white neck... and the collar around it. Oh, how Dahlia loathed that collar, the entirely unsubtle symbol of ownership and captivity. At one point, before Viola had learned to bind her arms quite so tightly, Dahlia had managed to contort herself in such a way as to rip the leather band from her neck and fling it across the room. Upon discovering this, Viola had calmly reaffixed the thing -- rather more tightly, this time -- and spent a long, lazy afternoon delighting in discovering _exactly_ how flexible Dahlia was in every possible direction.

Dahlia had not tried to remove the collar since. A pity, since it was so heavenly to hear her scream.

Viola was in a better mood already, and her smile brightened -- although that also made it more menacing. She circled around behind her pet, Dahlia's eyes following her warily. With a lithe grace that most would think impossible from her frail frame, Viola stepped close behind Dahlia and tugged her shoulders, unbalancing her and causing her to fall helplessly back against Viola's chest.

"How are we... today?" Viola murmured with amusement.

Dahlia growled and began to struggle. Oh good. Viola had been a little worried she'd make this too easy. But Dahlia never disappointed her.

There was a quiet snick. "Ah-ah-ah…" Viola pressed the switchblade against her pretty toy's throat. Dahlia froze.

"Surprised?" Viola wrapped her lips around an earlobe, sucking teasingly. Dahlia shivered. "Mmm... I love surprises." She brushed kisses across her jaw, down her neck, and paused at the line of the collar. Her free hand moved to cup a breast shamelessly, thumb rubbing slowly across the nipple; she could soon see it poking up through the thin fabric of her dress. She squeezed roughly, and Dahlia stiffened in her arms. So sensitive.

Now for the fun. Viola removed the blade from her captive's throat, though she kept it close, and she tugged lightly at the collar with her teeth. "I love this..." she murmured appreciatively, indicating the collar with another tug. "It says you're mine... all mine." She giggled. "All mine to... _play_ with. Every day." She could see Dahlia's skin starting to flush, and her smile widened. "Your long, soft hair..." And it was gorgeous. Viola loved to run her fingers through it, to tie it through the slats in the headboard, to take a fistful and pull until she could hear that lovely scream. "Your sweet, white neck..." She suckled at it with purpose for a moment, leaving a mark. It wouldn't be the only mark she'd leave tonight. "Your cute little chest..." She chuckled and squeezed again, harder this time, painful. Dahlia's flush deepened, and Viola heard a growl from low in her throat. Perfect. "Oh yes, you pretty thing. This..." Another tug at the collar, "...says you're all mine. But..." and now for the kill, "I want to hear you say it." Dahlia went absolutely still. Viola leaned in, pressing her lips against her ear. "Tell me you're mine," she whispered harshly.

Dahlia was silent. Every muscle in her body was taut with anger. She just needed one good push...

Viola pressed the knife gently, warningly, against Dahlia's cheek. "Well...?" The anticipation was incredible. "Say it," she commanded in a throaty whisper. "Tell me you're my pretty little pet."

Dahlia snarled, jerked her head away from the blade. "Not a chance!" she spat angrily.

Perfect. Viola struck with flawless precision, slashing a thin, shallow cut across Dahlia's cheek. Her captive inhaled sharply in pain and surprise, and then began to struggle violently. It was almost enough to throw Viola off her, but it was, of course, the reaction she had anticipated. "Now, now," she said, and quick as a flash had the knife pointed straight at Dahlia's eye. Dahlia immediately stopped struggling, watching the blade warily. "You wouldn't want to lose anything... important." To emphasize her point, she placed the tip of the blade just above Dahlia's left eye and dragged a short line.

Dahlia hissed in pain. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded through gritted teeth, but she held completely still. Thick, red droplets were flowing slowly down her cheek, and Viola lapped them up, savoring the coppery taste. She licked slowly across the wound, and Dahlia shivered involuntarily. Blood trickled into her eye and down the side of her nose, and Viola could see just a hint of uncertainty beneath the cold, defiant mask on her toy's beautiful face.

Without warning, Viola gave a hard shove, sending Dahlia sprawling onto the bed, landing uncomfortably on her bound arms. Before Dahlia could orient herself, Viola pried her knees apart and settled herself between them, spreading Dahlia's legs as wide as she could manage with her ankles bound as they were. This hiked the white dress up around Dahlia's waist and gave Viola an unobstructed view of the smooth, slick flesh at the junction of her legs -- underwear, after all, was a little too much of a privilege, and Viola rather enjoyed the knowledge that her lovely pet was going without. Ignoring the tantalizing view for a moment, she reached up to grab the end of the lead that was permanently attached to the headboard and, pulling it taut, just managed to fasten it to Dahlia's collar. With her range of movement thus limited, Viola was free to explore her toy as she wished.

Dahlia's face was red with rage -- just as Viola liked it. She returned her attention southward, probing intrusively with a pair of fingers. Dahlia squirmed indignantly, but she could do little else as Viola lazily stroked through her folds, occasionally pressing into her with shallow thrusts. Viola smiled down at her helpless little pet. "You're so wet..." she teased, fingers continuing to move in a firm rhythm across Dahlia's sex. "You act as though you hate this... but..." She only had to bend slightly to press an indulgent kiss to the inside of Dahlia's thigh. "...You love it. You can't hide it."

She ignored Dahlia's snarl and pulled her hand away, considered for a moment, and then wiped her fingers clean on the hem of Dahlia's dress. With a little effort, she managed to yank the fabric upward to bunch just below her captive's arms, leaving Dahlia's small breasts and flat stomach appealingly exposed. She twirled the switchblade in one hand with easy grace as she trailed kisses along the newly-exposed flesh, enjoying every response she managed to elicit against Dahlia's will: a subtle arch here, a soft sound there, occasionally a surprised jerk or a moan that was quickly choked back. When she was satisfied, Viola slithered upward, bringing herself eye to eye with Dahlia. Her hair fanned out attractively, a fiery halo; her breathing was just a little labored. "Are you going to be a good girl?" she asked playfully.

Dahlia spat in her face.

Viola's smile only widened as she wiped her cheek. "Oh good," she murmured with dangerous delight. "That wouldn't be... any fun at all."

She pressed a knee up between Dahlia's legs, teasing, and then she returned her attention to her pet's stomach, the skin smooth and unmarked. She kissed it again, dipping her tongue playfully into the hollow of Dahlia's navel -- pleased at the faint shiver that Dahlia could not quite suppress -- and considering how best to mar that perfect flesh.

She sat back on her heels and raised the switchblade, lazily. Dahlia's eyes fixed on it immediately, trails of blood on her pretty face. Viola rejected a dozen patterns and designs that sprang to mind; there would be time for them later, if she wished. No, she decided on something simpler -- perhaps a little crude, but quite appropriate.

The knife came down, just below Dahlia's right breast. It curled around, angled downward, then sharply upward. An elegant letter V. Viola bent her head to the wound, kissing and lapping at the blood that welled up, a metallic tang that slid easily over her tongue and down her throat. Ah, such bliss. She could feel the motion of Dahlia's breath beneath her lips, sharp inhalations that made her chest rise and fall in a rhythm that was only barely controlled.

Viola rose again, and in elegant script carved out the rest of her given name -- i... o...

A thin, high noise escaped from Dahlia's lips -- a whimper? -- but she gritted her teeth against it. Sweat beaded on her body.

l... a...

Pleased with her handiwork, Viola eagerly lapped at these cuts as well, then moved up to give attention to Dahlia's breasts, cupping one easily in a hand, kneading lightly, and moving her mouth across the other, swirling her tongue around the pert nipple before suckling at it gently. Dahlia made a sound that couldn't decide whether it was pained or pleased, but after a moment it settled into a helpless moan.

After another moment Viola pulled away to survey her captive, amusement on her face. Dahlia's face, neck, and chest were covered in a lovely pink flush that nicely complemented the dark red blood gathering along the letters of Viola's name. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips pressed thin, and when Viola made eye contact Dahlia glared back without reservation. Viola smiled broadly; her beautiful toy never disappointed her.

Viola crawled up Dahlia's body to bring them face-to-face once more, careful to keep her dress away from the blood on her captive's stomach. She lowered her forehead until it touched Dahlia's, smiling in answer to her pet's defiant stare. "I have a... proposition for you." Dahlia was silent. Viola giggled. "I'd like to kiss that... pretty red mouth of yours," she continued. "If you don't bite... I'll reward you. If you do..." Viola giggled again, a chilling sound.

Dahlia's eyes narrowed, but still she said nothing. Viola nuzzled her cheek, dropped light, fleeting kisses on the healing cuts, and then she moved in to press her lips to Dahlia's. The other woman did not acquiesce, exactly; but neither did she struggle as Viola parted her lips and delved in to explore her mouth. The serpentine tongue twisted and caressed, probed and stroked. Dahlia did her best to remain frigid... but Viola could feel the way her breathing quickened, the subtle vibration of a near-inaudible moan. They so rarely kissed, and Viola was enjoying the moment immensely. After a good, long moment, she began to pull back.

And Dahlia bit.

Viola pulled back sharply, startled at the pain, though not exactly surprised. Blood welled on her tongue, thick and heavy -- pleasant to the taste, though not nearly so pleasant as Dahlia's. She looked down. There was a challenge in Dahlia's eye -- and a hint of triumph. A shame, really; Viola would have liked to reward her. But she imagined punishing her would be just as good.

"I did warn you..." she breathed. She returned the knife to Dahlia's stomach, just below the V. Slowly, torturously, she carved a C. Dahlia tensed, body taut with the pain. Viola didn't stop, just continued at the same agonizing pace, a... d... a... Dahlia was quivering... v... e... r... She strangled back a groan... i... n... Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes; her teeth gritted tighter together and a low growl emanated from her throat... i...

Viola dotted the i's with a flourish and sat back to survey her work. Dahlia looked furious, her chest heaving, sweat glistening on her slim, white body. Viola's name stood out strikingly on her stomach. But it was missing something... Ah.

Viola lowered the knife to Dahlia's right breast, grinning crookedly up at her. Dahlia's eyes widened. Viola sliced into the flesh. Dahlia screamed.

It was an incredible sound, as though all the demons of hell had taken up a broken chorus, filled with pain and fear, but above all _rage_; unearthly, shattering -- Viola loved it. She was sorry to hear it end, but it was all too quickly she finished her work -- a heart, welling with blood, just beside the nipple -- and Dahlia's screams died off into harsh gasps, her body shuddering. So sensitive.

It was time to end their little game. Viola removed her dress at last, one quick, graceful motion divesting her of the garment and tossing it heedlessly to the floor. She unclasped her bra and shrugged it off, slipped her panties over her hips and down her legs, tossing them away to join her dress. On a whim, she bent her head between Dahlia's legs and kissed her, tongue sliding eagerly through the wet folds. She nuzzled the soft skin lightly before rising to lay her body flat against her pet's, feeling the warm, sticky blood against her stomach. She kissed along Dahlia's neck, tugging at the collar with her teeth. Then she settled their hips together just so.

A lovely tingling sensation moved through her as they met -- which turned to a jolt of pleasure when Viola began to buck her hips in a steady rhythm. She met Dahlia's eyes, her turn to challenge this time. And Dahlia pushed back against her, matching pace, determined to take what little control she could. Together they climbed higher and higher, blood and sweat sliding between them. Viola pressed feverish kisses to Dahlia's collarbone, occasionally sucking on the flesh, leaving bruises behind. They trembled as they grew nearer and nearer to climax, each holding back with iron determination.

When their movement reached a frantic pitch, the tidal wave of orgasm rushing inexorably toward them, Viola leaned down to whisper sweetly in Dahlia's ear: "Come for me... my pretty little pet..."

Dahlia went rigid beneath her, and Viola followed right behind, closing her eyes and giving a long, soft sigh as pleasure washed over her. After a long, perfect moment, they collapsed together bonelessly on the bed.

Viola giggled softly as she drifted back to herself. "Mmm..." she murmurmed, lips brushing Dahlia's ear. They curved upward sharply. "Now... you don't have to say you're mine..." She slipped a hand between them, caressing the wounds on her captive's stomach. "You've got it... written right on you... so everyone can see..." She pressed a kiss to the corner of Dahlia's mouth, and then she rolled off her, her feet landing gracefully on the floor, catlike. "I'm going to... take a bath," she said nonchalantly. "I'll come... clean you up... afterwards." She leaned down one last time to kiss the heart on Dahlia's breast, then sauntered into the master bath without looking back.

Dahlia eyes followed her with sullen defiance, though she could barely keep them open. When the bathroom door closed, she sank into exhausted sleep, the drying blood on her stomach marking her as Viola Cadaverini's pet. But not forever. She wasn't broken yet.

And Viola liked it that way.


End file.
